Electric Avenue by DesertPlanet
Summary: Following the disasterous Third Task, Harry begins to notice two things about himself. First: his appearence has begun to change. Second: something is very very wrong. The Cruciatus shouldn't continue to be causing him pain this far out from having received it, should it?
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape > Severitus Challenge Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Remus
Snape Flavour: Snape is Kind
Genres: Angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery
Media Type: None
Tags: Disguised!Harry, Injured!Harry, New Identity!Harry, Physical Impairment
Takes Place: 5th summer, 5th Year
Warnings: Neglect, Out of Character
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 47 Completed: No Word count: 206126 Read: 296787 Published: 08 Jan 2021 Updated: 13 Jan 2023
Chapter 4 by DesertPlanet

Severus shakily apparated to his living room and collapsed into the nearest armchair. For not having taken offense to his search for an assistant, the Dark Lord certainly seemed to be angry about it. He was just thankful the man had been more interested in finding the Potter boy than torturing him for his insolence. While not the first time he had been under the Cruciatus curse at the hands of that man, this was certainly the shortest amount of time he had been tortured.

Summoning an anti-Cruciatus potion and a pain reliever from his personal stores, he quickly downed the potions and let himself relax into the cushions of the armchair. He felt as though he could sleep for days, but that would have to happen later; now he needed to prepare a room for Draco to stay in. While he had half a mind to create a small room for the boy in the basement and keep him there, he knew that Draco would be in contact with his father. And keeping the boy locked in the basement was not a way to win him over to the side of the light.

No, he’d need a real room.

Going into what would have been considered the guest room, Severus quickly cast a barrage of cleaning and repair spells which fashioned the room into a much more accommodating bedroom for a growing teenager. He wouldn’t need much, just a bed, desk, side table and chair. Easy enough transfigurations to do.

The plan was for him to arrive following dinner and he would stay with Severus until the end of the summer. He would have to complete his homework of course, but when he was not working on school work, he would be required to assist in the lab. If they could get caught up and stay caught up on the potions requested, then they would have time to relax.

What did pureblood teenagers even do to relax? He knew what they did in school, but at home? He was at a loss and felt ill prepared for this.

Being raised in a muggle neighborhood, Severus had no idea what pureblood children did for fun. Even if he could provide some form of entertainment for the boy, he doubted Draco would have been able to enjoy it properly as he would be living in a muggle neighborhood for the first time in his life. He had plenty of parchment for the boy to write his friends, but no owl for him to send the letters.

He highly doubted Draco would enjoy going to the cinema or watching the telly.

Speaking of letters, Severus suddenly remembered the strange parcel of letters he had been sent just before word went out that Potter had gone missing. Who possibly could have sent him such letters? Who would want to send him a letter at all. The only person he had ever had regular correspondence with had passed away years ago, and even still they hadn’t spoken to each other for a very long time prior to her death. For someone to send him three letters was unusual. And for those letters to be written on old parchment… it was strange.

Once the room for Draco met basic living requirements, Severus quickly went back to the kitchen and, after casting a few curse-breaking charms for safety, went to work opening the letters. After removing the twine holding them together, his heart began to race as he looked at the handwriting on the envelopes.

It couldn’t be. Why would she have sent him a time delayed letter? Why would she have needed to send him a time delayed letter?

“Lily?” he whispered, running his fingers over his carefully written name on the front.

Severus Tobias Snape

Spinners End

Cokeworth, Yorkshire

Sent: 18 January, 1980

Deliver: 20 July, 1996

After staring at her letter for what felt like hours, he gingerly put it down. He was almost afraid to open it. When she sent the letter, they hadn’t seen each other in several years. Nor had they spoken with each other, even in writing. Their lives had taken drastically different paths by that point. She was actively working for the Order of the Phoenix while trying to find a mentor for a Charms mastery and living with her husband in a safe house; he was completing his Potions mastery and working as the apothecary for the Dark Lord while still living in Cokeworth. They couldn’t have been farther from each other, both in ideology and location.

So why did she write?

The second letter was addressed the same as the first, though the ‘sent’ date was much later. It was written in standard black ink, nothing very fancy, though the handwriting seemed rather familiar. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite place it. With it having been sent so long ago, he may have been more familiar with the handwriting at the time. Now, however, he just couldn’t place it.

The third letter was more … concerning. It was obviously written by a dicta-quill and was sent from within the ministry. From the Family Services center. Judging by the scratched out address, it had originally been sent to Lily via her parent’s house. The original seal had been broken on the front meaning she had opened it, read it, resealed it in the original envelope, and sent it on to him after the first two letters had been sent.

Turning back to the first letter, he slowly, delicately broke the wax seal, watching as the wax nearly crumbled at the barest of touch. Gingerly, he removed and unfolded the parchment within the envelope, trying to prevent his fingers from shaking too badly. A letter from Lily, sent years ago and purposefully delayed to be delivered yesterday. To him, this was worth more than all the gold in Gringotts.

My dearest

Dear

Hello Severus,

I doubt very much you are expecting this letter. I had honestly hoped I wouldn’t have to write this. I cannot in good conscience not let you know what has transpired, however, especially as you play such a pivotal role in what I am about to tell you. And I honestly doubt very much that you have any memory of this occurring. I don’t know what had happened to you to land you in such a state, so I will only tell you my side of the story.

I don’t know if you knew them well, or at all, but I had a few girl friends in primary school whom I remained in contact with while at Hogwarts: Kathy Miller and Renee Anderson (in case you knew them). With the war going on and all of the stress we were under, I wanted nothing more than to go back to a simpler time, before any of this had happened and we were all naive children. So when Kathy reached out to me, telling me that she was planning a girls’ night out, and was wondering if I wanted to come, I couldn’t refuse. A few drinks with friends, that was all it was meant to be.

We went from club to club and were having a lovely time, but when we decided to go to a final pub we were all rather sloshed. Kathy and Renee were at the bar, ordering some more drinks and talking about life and I decided I needed to go to the loo. And there you were, in the back corner, nursing what seemed to be your ninth brandy of the night. I couldn’t help it, I needed to talk to you. And they saw how badly I missed you so they pushed me to talk to you. You looked so forlorn and lost and… Severus you were my best friend for so long and I missed you. I still do.

I don’t know what happened next, and considering you were further gone than I was, I doubt very much you do either. What I do know is I woke up the next morning in your bed in your room. You were still asleep and I… I just left. I ran. I’m sorry Sev, but it was a mistake. I loved you, but not the you you became.

I hoped nothing would come of it. I hoped it was just a one night stand and that somewhere in our alcohol addled brains we had remembered to use protection. Or that nothing had occurred and we had just fallen asleep like we had when we were little.

Severus, I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant and I think it may be yours. I won’t be able to do a pregnancy test until the baby is born, but I believe my math is right. And if you’re receiving this, my math was right. I’m so sorry.

Whatever it is you want to do with this information, do it. But I must tell you, I haven’t told anyone yet. I’ll have to tell James, but I don’t plan to tell anyone else. For your sake and mine. I’m being careful about this. I don’t want you killed because of something you did while drunk. I’ve already started taking Falsum Paternis potions to alter the baby’s appearance so it looks more like James than you. They also alter the baby’s magical signature so it can’t be found even if they use you for the search medium. You probably know, of course, that these potions will only last until the baby is fifteen. I am sending a letter to the baby as well to let them know the truth.

I hope I am alive to tell my baby the truth before they get their letter, but I fear this may not be the case as the war grows ever more desperate for our side. My only hope is for my baby to grow up safely and healthily.

I’m so sorry Severus. I wish you well.

Love,

Sincerely,

~Lily Evans Potter

Severus watched as the letter fell from his hands in shock. He had a child? Lily’s child was his? But… Potter was his? His hands shook as he collapsed backwards into his chair, heart racing.

He vaguely remembered the week Lily had mentioned in her letter. Raids and revels were occurring on a nightly basis. The death toll was rising on both sides. Muggles were being slaughtered in the night only to be found by horrified neighbors the next morning. The ministry was struggling to keep up with the demands to keep the entire thing under wraps and would often miss a muggle or two during their mass obliviations. It was pure chaos, and Severus was in the middle of it all.

He had been in a rather depressed mood that night. He was feeling the strain of it all and needed to spend a night away from the darkness that surrounded him. He had needed some time to decompress and think over his decisions. This all came only a month before he made the decision to defect and begin working as a spy, so he was already on the fence as to where his loyalties truly lay.

The Dark Lord had promised many things to his followers but few of these were actually coming to fruition, and Severus could see how much of a paranoid megalomaniac the man was becoming.

He remembered going to the pub and beginning to drink away his sorrows, but then his memory grew hazy. For all of his prowess with Occlumency and mind magic, he couldn’t recall anything more of that night. Perhaps a flash of red hair? Or a scent of perfume? But nothing concrete which he could say for certain was Lily’s presence. All he had was this letter, sent a decade and a half previous.

He was only one letter in and already felt as though a bomb went off and had shaken his entire reality.

With bated breath and shaking hands, he turned his attention to the next letter. Turning it over, he saw the distinct seal of the Potter family emblazoned on the red wax seal. James Potter had written him a letter.

Flipping the envelope back over and looking at the date it was sent, he sighed in partial relief. By June, only a month before Potter Jr. (he couldn’t very well go about calling the boy this any more, now could he) was born, Severus had already switched sides and was actively working as a spy. He still wasn’t sure of his choices, but this letter would likely be far more amicable than one sent months prior.

Snivellus,

‘Nevermind,’ Severus thought, wincing at the nickname and very nearly throwing the letter into the fire immediately. If he weren’t still in shock from Lily’s letter and desperate for further confirmation of her accusation of his being the father, he was certain the letter would have been immediately destroyed.

Snivellus,

Lily told me what happened. How you were both drunk and had sex and now she thinks the baby may be yours. I don’t know how I feel about it to be honest and she told me several months ago. I guess we’ll just have to wait until the baby is born to do a paternity test.

Even with the knowledge of this baby possibly not being mine, I want you to know I plan on caring for it as though it were my own flesh and blood. I love my wife and I love her child, even if I am not the biological father. I don’t trust you, however. I know Dumbledore does and Lily is beginning to again, but I don’t. I don’t know if I ever will, but I plan on following my wife’s lead on if she sees you as safe to be around our child. She knows you better than I do. Should the time come before you receive these letters that we allow you into the baby’s life, I apologize for my behavior. If not, stay away from me, my wife, and my child. I leave this in Lily’s hands.

~James Harold Potter

Short, sweet, and surprisingly lacking in insults other than referring to him by his schoolyard nickname. And only one thinly veiled threat. It must have pained the man greatly to write this.

Severus smirked as he slid the much shorter letter under Lily’s letter. James Potter never did change his tone, even at the end. Brazen and brash in everything he did, including fighting Voldemort in an effort to spare his wife and … his son. The man was truly a Gryffindor through and through. Had he survived, Severus still doubted they would ever have been friends.

Sighing, Severus folded his hands and rested his elbows on the table, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles. Only one letter left, but he already felt as though his world had been turned upside down. Had Lily ever attempted to tell him and he brushed her off? Had James? Would she have told him?

Did P-Harry even meet the criteria set out by the prophecy anymore?

Severus groaned as he looked at the last letter. He doubted he would have received the first two if the last was a negative result. Obviously Lily had looked at the paternity test before she made the decision to send it on to him. As much as it pained him to think about, he needed to see it to believe it. He would need to do his own test to be positive that P-Harry was his.

Pulling the final letter out of the envelope, he was unsurprised by the results he saw.

Harry Potter was not a Potter at all.

If the potions were failing, it explained why no one was able to find him. They were looking for someone who didn’t exist. He could very well be safely inside the wards and none would be the wiser. Those wards were keyed to Harry Potter. Locator spells were looking for Harry Potter. Even the Headmaster’s devices were locked on Harry Potter’s magical signature.

And Harry Potter no longer existed.


His head was absolutely pounding as the noises around him continued to shriek away, sounding at times like a psychotic drummer and other times like a shrieking alarm. The earplugs he had been provided did very little to stop the excruciatingly loud sounds he had been exposed to for the last hour and a half.

“‘Right there, ‘Arry?” the voice of the radiology tech sounded over the loudspeaker in the room. “One more scan and we’re done. Y’aren’t allergic to shellfish, are yeh?”

“N-not that I’m aware of,” Harry said as loudly as he could. The microphone which picked up his speech seemed to be on the fritz and wasn’t picking up his voice very well.

“What?!” the radiology tech said. “Say that again, ‘Arry.”

“NO!” Harry yelled.

“Right. This might feel a bit warm, but it’s jus’ a bit o’ contrast dye.”

Harry suddenly felt a warmth rush through him starting from his IV and rushing into his chest before suddenly rushing to his head and down his back. The warmth quickly turned to burning as it traveled down his spine, setting all of his frayed nerves alight. It then traveled down his legs feeling like liquid fire filling his veins making his toes curl involuntarily in pain. Was it supposed to burn this much?

The sounds started up again as the burning returned to his chest before rocketing down his arms. Only one more scan. One more scan and they’d take him back to his room. He could do it. Only a few more minutes and he would be allowed to move again. This was nothing compared to being locked in a cupboard under the stairs for a week. Or disemboweling rats for detention. Or repotting mandrakes. Or being crucio’d in a graveyard by a man who actively wanted to murder you. Yeah, an MRI was nothing.

But why was it burning so badly? Was he actually allergic to shellfish? Why was that even a question that needed to be asked? What would an allergic reaction to shellfish even feel like? If it felt like his entire body was on fire and his heart would beat out of his chest, then he guessed he may actually be allergic to shellfish. It was starting to hurt to even breathe.

“All done, ‘Arry!” the loudspeaker said as soon as the noises stopped. “Gimme a second and I’ll get you out.”

He needed to get out now. He needed to sit up, but the strange contraption holding his head in place was still locked down. His chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if the tube around him were closing in and would trap him, preventing him from moving for longer. He would die in this tube. It was like a metal coffin. He needed out now!

Suddenly, the lights flickered and all whirring from the machine abruptly stopped. The gurney he was on suddenly shot out of the center of the machine and head restraint shot off and fell to the floor just in time for him to roll over and vomit profusely onto the floor.

“Bloody ‘ell!” the radiology tech exclaimed, running into the room. “REG, grab a basin and some towels! You ‘right ‘Arry?”

Harry shook his head before his arms collapsed under him and he lay sideways on the gurney panting as the burning continued to rocket around his body. What in Merlin’s name was going on? A bucket was suddenly thrust under his chin as another wave of nausea crashed over him, greatly exacerbating the shaking he was already having.

The shaking hadn’t gotten any better since he had been in the hospital, just more annoying. He had already had a multitude of tests trying to pinpoint what was going on, each more annoying than the last. He had had blood taken, x-rays done, a cat scan of his entire body, and this MRI of his head. From what he gathered, they hadn’t found anything wrong yet, and he was curious if they would. If this was a magically induced problem, would they even find anything wrong? And if they did, would he be able to use magical treatments to cure whatever it was that made him have that seizure?

Slowly, the burning died away leaving his muscles feeling extremely fatigued. His mouth was now filled with the taste of vomit and his throat felt raw, but at least he wasn’t feeling as though he were melting from the inside out anymore.

“Hey, Jack?” the other radiology tech who had brought the bucket in asked suddenly, shaking Harry from his thoughts. “Why’d you turn off the MRI? You know that’s terrible for the computer!”

“I didn’t do it! It jus’... stopped workin’!” the tech said as he rubbed Harry’s back. “You ‘right there, lad?”

Harry nodded sleepily; the burst of magic had zapped him of what little strength he had regained. He just wanted to go back to the napping he was doing before they came and started running test after test on him. His head still hurt and all of his muscles were sore, but at least he was more with it than he had been several hours ago!

To be continued...
End Notes:
Sorry for the weird formatting, I couldn't get the letter to work right without messing up the formatting for the rest of the chapter. Oh well, such is life.


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=3639